


Psyched.

by spicy_carrot



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Awkward Crush, Awkward Flirting, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Crushes, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy, Late Night Conversations, Peter Parker is a Mess, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Precious Peter Parker, Reader is Main Character (Mystic Messenger), Reader-Insert, Secret Identity, Spider-Man: Homecoming Spoilers, Teen Crush, Teen Peter Parker, Teen Romance, With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility, angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2020-07-25 16:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20028646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicy_carrot/pseuds/spicy_carrot
Summary: You had no intention of remaining a superhero after being recruited by Tony Stark for the airport battle in Berlin. Though that sentiment changes as the relationship between you and a certain web-slinger develops over time.





	1. 1. Just another Saturday at grandma’s haunted tea shop.

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place roughly around (and after) the events of Spider-Man: Homecoming.  
You can also find it on Wattpad.
> 
> Peter Parker x Reader, assuming reader is female, but it works for guys too. Your last name is already decided, personally feel like it flows nicer while reading (not to mention I'm lazy).
> 
> Obviously, none of the characters belong to me, except for the concept of y/n, aka Psyched.

1.

Hey everyone. It's been a while since I've written a fanfic (or anything, really) so I'm hoping this won't turn out too terribly. If anyone actually happens to stumble across this, I hope your standards aren't too high and wish you fun while reading this most likely somewhat cringe worthy story.

—————————

Alright. You're in a terrible situation, truly tragic. What a disaster.

The urge of wanting to jump in front of a moving train bubbles up inside of you, which definitely sounds tempting at the moment. Too bad you're currently on said train, which everyone on the scene, both nosy bystanders and passengers of it, are expecting you to save from crashing into a busy street of New York City, which would kill hundreds in the process. No biggie. Absolutely no pressure on you there.

_Pull it together, y/n_, you scold yourself, _you're too young to die! Not in this multi-million, neon colored spandex suit anyway!_

But just in case you do, you silently curse the people who even got you into this mess in the first place.

It all started when you were born. Your parents are at fault here. Wait, no. Too far back.

Well, ultimately the trigger for it was pressed a couple of months ago when you decided to help out your grandmother in her store as a cashier. You desperately needed the extra money and accepted her offer, even though you could've sworn that place was haunted.

Your grandmother owns a store a few blocks away from your apartment in Brooklyn, where she sells all sorts of funky asian medicine items, ranging from Chinese teas and herbs to "magic" charms and totems. Most people come for the tea, though.

So one day, your dear _halmeoni_ ordered you to bring her some boxes from the storage room, when you suddenly spotted some kind of glowing item lying on the floor. It appeared to be a wooden figure shaped like a tree frog, which you decided to pick up and put back into what you assumed was its respective place on the shelf. Coincidentally, you suddenly developed frog-themed superpowers over the course of the next two hours or so. Just another typical Saturday working at grandma's haunted tea shop.

At first, you had no idea what to do with them. Amongst other things you could now jump really high and had sticky hands and feet and your swimming ability increased significantly. Cool stuff, but you weren't planning on using them for sports.

Being a superhero was out of the picture too, because 1) New York already had the Spider guy, 2) there was no way in _hell_ you'd march around in a goddarn skin-tight spandex suit. Absolutely none.

Then it all went to shit when multi-bazillionaire, genius, playboy, philanthropist Tony Stark, aka Iron Man himself and your brother's former boss, showed up at your door, offering to build you a fur-suit and wanting to recruit you to fight the personification of American patriotism at some airport in Germany.

Stark planted himself on your desk chair after a brief chat with your mother and started talking.

"From what I've heard, you'd make a pretty good addition to the team. Granted, it's temporary, but you'd do well."

"What? I don't- I'm really not as talented as my brother when it comes to engineering and whatever."

Mr Stark raised his eyebrows. "That.. might have some truth to it, but you know that's not why I'm here, kid."

"Sir, I really don't."

"Oh yeah? Didn't you break your school's high jump record by, what was it, sixteen feet?"

"Beginner's luck."

"Look, y/n, you might not want to admit it, but your powers could help change the world, your grandmother's told me all about them. The team needs you for this mission."

You sighed in annoyance. "Mr Stark, I- if I wanted to be a superhero, I would've started months ago. It's really not my kind of business, I don't think I have what it takes."

"Ya know kid, I kinda like your attitude. But riddle me this", he pulled up a holographic screen. "If you don't have what it takes, how'd you manage to stop this jewelry store from getting robbed, huh?"

There you were, on video. Well, not really.

"I turned invisible."

Stark nodded with an expression on his face signalizing _yeah, no shit you can._

"But I can't do it on command, it was a total coincidence!"

"If that's your only problem, then we'll figure it out."

So you gave in eventually. You briefly brainstormed some ideas for your costume together (spandex, duh.) and cleared up some other things, and decided on your new superhero name. Cool stuff.

"Wait, what am I going to tell my mom, though?"

"Stark Internship."

You gulped.

"Like like my brother?"

"He was... a good kid", Stark muttered and averted his eyes, then glanced back at you. "Worked for the other kid, anyway."

You squinted your eyes in disbelief.

"_Other_ kid?"


	2. Psyched to meet ya.

Next thing you knew you were sitting in a private jet to Berlin with Happy Hogan and a mysterious stranger wearing sunglasses and a scarf around his face. You too had taken sunglasses and a cap with you, which, after a while of the scarf-guy rambling on about this being his first flight (and Happy taking a different seat) was commented by the only adult around.

“Why are you two wearing sunglasses? We’re inside.”

The other kid and you made eye contact, at least you think he did. His sight orbs weren’t visible through the colorful, shaded glass.

“It’s to conceal our secret identities”, he said.

You nodded. “Privacy, ya know.”

Happy in turn signed, exhausted, and proceeded to mind his own business for the rest of the flight.

After what felt like an eternity of awkward silence, you turned to the guy.

“So, who exactly are you? Like, what’s your deal here?” That must’ve sounded rude.

“Oh, I’m- Stark Internship..?”, he muttered. You squinted at him.

Before you could comment on it, Happy was faster. “No need for a cover story here. Both of you are superheroes”, the man groaned from his seat, desperate for sleep. The boy sighed. “I’m Spider-Man.”

First day doing this and you already met the Spider-Man. You get now why Stark called him “the other kid”.

“I thought you’d be older”, you smirked.

“You’re the same age”, Happy grumbled once more.

Spider-Man finally took off his scarf to speak. “You’re also a superhero?”

You grimaced, hearing it now makes it appear even more surreal. “I guess so, didn’t have much of a choice, really.”

He chuckled somewhat nervously.

“Psyched.”

“What?”, he replied in confusion.

“That- that’s my hero name. Short for psychedelic, because of some of my powers. I do illusion stuff”, you blabbered out while awkwardly fumbling around with the cap you were wearing. Spidey flashed you a sincere smile. “That’s way more original than mine, gotta admit.” You thanked him, stretching your mouth into a deformed grin-smirk-smile abomination, then turned your head away in order to avoid eye contact.

“My spit stuns people.”

You were really starting to burst out at random intervals. Way to disturb a stranger.

“Does that... hurt?”, Spider-Man wondered. He seemed genuinely interested and only a tad bit disturbed.

“Not sure. I’m pretty sure it just makes some of your body parts go numb for a bit.”

“How come I’ve never heard about you before?”

You remained silent. Inhaled, trying to say something.

“Well, I didn’t really plan on, ya know. Doing this. First time in a battle, yay.” Lifting your hands, you did half-hearted, ironic jazz-hands. The guy opposite you smiled again. Were you really that entertaining?

Time flies when you’re flying. Soon enough, Happy ordered “the two of you lovebirds” to get out and you were on your way to the hotel. Pretty neat. Happy instructed both of you to put on your respective suits, and so you did. Surprisingly comfy for a skin-tight one.

The design resembled a red-eyed tree frog, with a color palette of mostly green, blue and off-white on some parts of the legs, sleeves and side of your torso, as well as a reddish orange for the feet and fingertips. The silhouette of a frog was printed on the chest-part in blue. For the head a thin half-open helmet/mask with a red visor that hid your eyes nicely.

Now you’re wearing that exact suit and snap out of that ridiculous day dream. You’re a hero now and you’ve got to act like one, too.

Sticky ropes emerge from both of your wristbands, which you wrap around the train in hopes of holding it back. You quickly jolt upwards, sticking your feet to the walls of the next-best sky scraper and try to pull, but the train barely budges. Sure, you’re strong, but Psyched is no Spider-Man when it comes to muscles.

You can’t fail. You really can’t afford letting all of these people down now- Thinking of the devil, a familiar figure in red swings by you.

“Need a haaaaaand?” With your tongue-like ropes and his webs, you eventually manage to bring the train to safety. After obligatory hand-shakes with the passengers, both of you retreat to the roof of an unfamiliar building.

“Thanks for earlier”, you say somewhat dryly.

“Of course! I’m very glad somethings finally happened here. Sometimes it’s just so boring- Where’d all the action go in this city?”

You scoff. “Boring, out of all things? We could’ve died out there.”

“It’s just- it’s just part of fulfilling your duty.”

You don’t answer and instead glance upon the skyline of the city. The sun is starting to set. Quite the romantic setting. With a soft sigh, you take off your helmet but leave on your visor. Hair tied to a ponytail, small strands of it dance in the pleasant evening breeze.

“Guess you’re right.” Spidey scoots a teeny, tiny bit closer to you and also let’s his feet bumble from the edge of the roof.

“You know, I’m glad that, I mean, there’s someone else. Someone I can work with and I’m not”, he pauses, “on my own anymore?”

“Suuure”, you reply, grinning.

You could’ve sworn you can see him turning even redder underneath his mask. But he leaves almost instantly.

“Anyway, see you around?”

You nod to him.

“Psyched to see you again!”, he says, then swings away into the setting sun.


	3. Kinda busted.

"Y/n! Make sure to lock the door behind you!", your mother calls out from the kitchen as you enter the apartment.   
You lock the door, take off your shoes and throw your school backpack onto the living room couch, where it lands right next to your sister.   
"Ugh, what a day", you mumble, leaning on the back-piece of the sofa, letting your arms dangle.  
As for usual, your little sister pretends not to notice your presence, concentrating fully on the book she's reading. Sometimes you wonder how she does that simultaneously to listening to the TV news.  
"Watcha reading there?", you ask out of sheer curiosity.   
"Your diary", Grace answered without missing a beat.  
You don't actually write a diary.  
"Some kind of engineering thingy", she says eventually, not taking her eyes off of the book, "found it in... _his _room."  
Grace makes a clear statement by not mentioning your late brother's name, but before you can at least awkwardly pat her shoulder, your mom calls you to dinner.

"Thanks, mom", you two say at the same time while your mom sets down the plates.   
"Sorry I couldn't help setting the table", you say and sit down.  
"Well, _someone_ sure could have", she glares at your sister, but quickly changes the topic. "Did you hear about the train accident earlier?"  
That's when you wince. They don't notice.  
"Yeah, good thing we've got those two heroes around", your sister is almost incomprehensible through her loud chewing.   
Your mother nods. "Your grandmother told me you treated some of the injured passengers in the store."  
Trying not to choke, you nod, eyes wide open. You haven't been in grandma's shop in _weeks._  
"Oh yeah. That red yeast rice does wonders."  
"Grandma told me", your mother says approvingly.  
Thank the heavens your grandmother's always got you covered whenever you're out fighting crime. Mostly helping old people cross the street, but that's fine by you.  
However, since you haven't helped her out in a while, you also never got to see your paycheck. Maybe you should stop by sometime again.

After dinner, your sister knocks on your bedroom door and enters without awaiting a response.  
"What the heck?", you complain.  
"Yeah, what the heck is _this_?", she opens your backpack, and before you can complain again, pulls out your suit. The Psyched suit.

"It's for the school play."  
"I thought you were doing Shakespeare?"  
"We're adding a twist."   
Grace sets down your backpack and quietly closes the door.  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
You grimace awkwardly. "The twist was supposed to be a surprise."  
"Don't bullshit me, y/n."  
"Jeez, fine. Just stop swearing already."  
You grab the suit and comfortably position yourself on your desk chair while your sister sits down on the floor.  
"Yes, congratulations, you busted me. I'm Psyched. Psyched is me. If you tell _anyone_, you're dead. Got it?"  
Your sister stares at you intensely.  
She doesn't ask any questions, but you answer them anyway.  
"I didn't plan on telling anyone because it's dangerous for people to know my secret identity. I also thought this would be a temporary thing, but then the whole 'Stark Internship' thing happened.   
"My jumping record is 120 feet high, and no, my tongue isn't incredibly long and flexible."  
"But is it _sticky_?"  
"No."  
For a while, the two of you siblings sit in silence. You desperately try to avoid eye contact.  
"This is _so _cool!", Grace breaks the silence, whispering excitedly.   
"You can't tell _anyone._"  
She smiles from ear to ear, absolutely amazed. Astonished. Bedazzled.   
"Can I- can I be The Guy- no, The Girl In The Chair?"  
You sigh. "Isn't that normally the job of the genius best friend and not your thirteen-year-old little sister?"  
"_Genius_ little sister, dare I add."  
The only thing she'd really be a genius in would be electronics or whatever. You're still the chemistry genius, you're attending Midtown High Schools after all.  
"You know what? Screw it. Fine, so whatever. Just don't get in the way of my business, alright?"  
"This is so cool. This is _so _cool! My sister's a superheroine!"  
Unfortunately, you're feeling too exhausted to scold Grace and tell her to shut up.   
"Sure. Whatever. Are you done now?"  
Grace is still beaming, paralyzed from fascination, forcing you to basically shove her out of your door.

Then you turn around and flop wearily onto your bed, groaning yet again.  
Why'd everyone have to make such a big fuss about this? Being a superhero was never your choice, you never _had _one to begin with.   
The universe just threw a bunch of unwanted powers as well as an immense responsibility, then slapped the label "superhero" on your poor soul.   
_Come on. What would Iron Man say now?_  
_"With great strength comes great accountability"? _  
_No, that's not how the saying goes. _  
_Probably something more like "Look, kid. Nobody chooses to become a superhero. Things just so happen to fall into place in a way that you basically don't have another option. Well, you do, but you'd have to be a massive dick-head to pass up an opportunity like this."_  
Maybe. You've only had about two conversations in person with Tony Stark so far, but as far as you can judge, he'd probably say something like that. But it doesn't really help.  
_What about grandma?_  
Eh. Just scold you for not having visited her more often. And complaining about all the times she had to cover for you.

There's really only one other person you could talk to about this kind of stuff. You should probably go out there and look for hi- No. that would be weird. It's not like you're really friends, anyway. Not yet.


	4. Table buddies

Great. Now that your sister knows about your little secret, you should really work on trying to make it stay one. School is, as always, an absolute drag. In the morning classes, you got back a couple of quizzes, which you all scored pretty badly at. Your English teacher seemed especially disappointed and asked about your current mental state. You did as you’d always do, namely giving one of your infamous standard answers:

“That was just a little slip. Won’t happen again.”

Or

“I was just a bit tired that day.” Of course you know that it’s the weight of the newfound responsibility which was chucked at you in the form of forcing you to become a “professional” crime fighter. But what are you supposed to tell your teachers? “_Sorry, I’ve been really busy hopping around town in my fur-suit stopping petty thieves and pickpockets that I totally forgot to study. It’ll most definitely happen again”_ ? You think you’re starting to lose it. A tad bit, maybe.

Naturally, your best and probably only friend Payton _had_ to be sick that day, so when lunch time rolls around, you’re absolutely lost. You scan the cafeteria for a table, but all groups seem to be doing just fine without you. Except for the theater kids who were being bugged by a couple of jocks. However, you really aren’t feeling like stepping in. Then you spot one with only two people, Ned and Peter, the latter staring heart-eyed at a senior girl named Liz. You immediately turn the other way.

Then, some other girl waves you over. She’s sitting all alone, how come you didn’t notice her before? You smile awkwardly and after a moment of standing there in silence, she offers you to sit down. So you set down your lunch-tray. “Hello there, new girl.” “I’m not new”, you reply, eyebrows raised. “I think we’re in the same chemistry class?” She nods deadpan. “Ah, yeah. Y/n, right? Michelle. My friends call me MJ.” Your eyebrows are still raised. You blink a few times. “I don’t have any, though”, Michelle continues and then starts munching some of her salad. “Cool”. Averting your eyes, you quickly pull out your phone to message Payton. The conversation with Michelle was going terribly.

** _Today, 12:27 _ **

_**You:** Please tell me you’re coming to school tomorrow. _

_**Payton🥰✨:** u miss me much??_

_** You:** Yee. Please save me. _

_**Payton🥰✨:** dw i will be back **Payton🥰✨:** id never leave my bestie alone for more than one day_

_** Payton🥰✨:** youd die without me sis _

_**You:** Hee hee. _

_**You:** Btw, read chapters 5 and 6 for Thursday. _

_**Payton🥰✨:** thanks y/n!! Be good 💙💙 _

Payton isn’t too big on punctuation. You zone back in and hear Michelle talk to Ned and Peter at the table next to you. “You guys are losers”, she says. Ned looks at her confusedly.

“Your table buddy isn’t even talking to you.”

“That’s a thing?”, Peter wonders. Michelle turns to you. “Are we buddies?”

“Uh, sure... MJ”, you reply. MJ grins. “See? Y/n and I are totally buddies.”

“Oh, I know you”, Peter says suddenly. “We’re in the same English class.”

“And Chemistry”, you add.

Ned and MJ exchange a glance, then he grins. “Ooh, you two’ve got chemistry.”

“What?”, Peter wonders, his eyes going back and forth between you and Ned for a second. “_What_, what?”, Ned replies.

After finishing your grilled cheese sandwich you decide to flee the scene and let out a sigh. “Was, uh, nice talking to you guys, but I’d better get going.” Ned flashes you all a warm smile. “Table buddies!”

At this time of the day, the hallway is pretty much empty. You shamble comfortably to your locker, as your phone starts ringing out of nowhere. It’s your sister.

“Yeah? Something up?”

Grace’s voice sounds ecstatic. “Y/n, it’s time to suit up! There’s some kind of robbery happening at another bank, they’ve got similar weapons to the thieves from the ATM thing last week and-“

You cut her off, hissing: ”What the hell are you talking about? I don’t have time for this!”

“Sure you do! School isn’t starting ‘til ten minutes.”

“Grace, I don’t even have my suit with me.”

She replies almost immediately. “You could just stop by at home real quick and get i-“

“Grace!”, you can’t help but tell at her silliness.

“Y/n-“

“Stop being ridiculous. Just call the police or something, alright? This is not my problem!”

“It’s Psyched’s problem.”

“No, it isn’t. I absolutely don’t have time for this. I really- I really can’t afford slacking off at school right now”, you sigh.

“I’m sorry”, Grace mumbles sheepishly.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. Next time you could just- you could call me after school or whatever, kay?” There’s only beeping on the other end of the line now. You close your eyes and rest your head on your locker door. You barely ever yell at your sister, especially not since your brother’s death. Heck, you really don’t want to think about it.

You really hope she isn’t mad at you now, but at least you survived half a day without Payton. And you made new friends - table buddies.


	5. Reflection

_Song for the chapter: “reflection - samashi”._

————————

When you come home that day, Grace is nowhere to be seen. Upon asking your mom, you find out she’s sleeping over at her friend’s place, most likely to avoid you due to your argument earlier. You decide to call and apologize to her later, but for now you sit down for dinner and start half-heartedly munching your mashed potatoes.

“How was your day, honey?”, your mother asks as she has been doing routinely ever since you started school ten years ago and doesn’t seem take notice of the irritation in your voice as you, also routinely, answer “Good. Payton was sick, though.” She definitely wouldn’t like to hear about the quizzes you got back, not to mention she didn’t ask about them or anything.

“Sorry to hear that. But you won’t believe what happened to my colleague yesterday. You do remember Chris?”

“The one who’d always invite us over to barbecue but didn’t actually have any food?”

“That’s the one. Well, he was in the train accident yesterday, told us he even shook hands with our city’s beloved two heroes! Chris got lucky thanks to them, only got out with a few bruises.” You throw the rest of the mashed potatoes on your plate into the trash and then put it into the dishwasher. Your mother keeps talking. “They were even as polite to shake hands with him and all, would you believe it?”

“Sure would.” No shit! You were literally there when you did it.

After thanking you mother for the delicious meal you only had a few spoons of, you head to your room and call your little sister to check on her. The line beeps for about ten seconds before it goes to voicemail.

Letting out a sigh, you make your way to your desk and start reading the next couple of chapters of your English book. You try calling Grace once more, but no luck again. And Payton currently isn’t online. Your mother must be asleep by now, too. Hence you decide to get a quick look of the famous NYC skyline at night before ultimately heading to bed too. You throw on your ridiculous suit, then sneakily sneak out of your window.

The stickiness of your hands and feet allows you to climb effortlessly on any platform, especially building walls. Then you gracefully bounce from here to the next buildings, headlights and street lamps way down below illuminating your path.

Eventually you make it to the place you last saw Spider-Man at, the unknown house you rested on after the train-fiasco. As it turns out, it is simply some kind of business facility, a fancy bank if you remember correctly. Coincidentally, the aforementioned arachnid approaches you, but you shun his glance and prefer to rest your eyes on the view.

“Who thought I’d see you here again?”, he says, sitting down a few feet next to you.

“Great minds think alike, huh”, you finally decide to flash him a tired smile, then turn your head again. Spidey seems to have picked up on it. “Hey, you alright?”

You move your hand as to signal “so-so”. He remains quiet, as of awaiting a proper response.

“This whole deal of... crime fighting and masquerading has really impacted my life, I reckon. Negatively.”

“I’m really-“, he starts, then noticed the muffledness of his voice underneath the mask, so he lifts it a tiny bit, just enough to uncover his mouth. His lips look shiny and- ah, quit it already.

“I’m really sorry to hear that.“ Spidey eventually manages to finish his sentence.

“It’s not your fault, is it. My grades have simply been crashing at an alarming rate. And my sibling is super upset with me. Just this entire...”, you clench your fists, searching for words. “This responsibility that’s been bestowed upon me, upon us, doesn’t that ever scare you?”, you look at him, panic in your eyes, but he won’t see it through your red visor. You hope he doesn’t. “You know, a wise man once told me: _‘With great power comes great responsibility.’_”

Oh yeah, that’s the saying you were once looking for. “But I know what you mean”, he finishes his sentence. “I can literally and figuratively feel the weight of the entire city upon me. I know all of these citizens are counting on us, constantly. To you I guess it’s not always a whole lot. You’ve been in this business a lot longer, after all.”

“I really do get you, Psyched.” It feels weird hearing that name, that pseudonym being said directly to your face. You’d like to offer him to call you by your real name, though you’d rather preserve your identity.

“That’s why- remember the other day? I’m glad too. I’m glad that I’ve got a partner of sorts! That’s really refreshing.”

“Yeehaw, partner”, you couldn’t help but add that in. Spidey giggles, it sounds so hearty and genuine. And definitely cute.

“I- I don’t even watch western movies”, you admit, to which he starts laughing even more and you involuntarily join him. As your laughter fades, you look at each other again, moving a bit closer to the boy. Guy, whatever it shall be. His glimmering, thin lips are stretched to such a sincere smile, he really looks like he alone could be worth being a hero for. And you really could stay out here forever, but a brief look at your phone reveals that it’s already 11:18 pm.

“Crap, today’s a school night”, you silently curse out Father Time for his sheer existence, then get back on your feet. “So, hey. Thanks”, you mumble and somewhat awkwardly lay your hand on your opposite’s shoulder.

“Oh, anytime!”, he replies and smiles again. Heck, you could melt at the sight of that, but you make the wise decision to hop out of there before you do. But not before giving him a quick wave and of course, a smile.


	6. Table buddies: now with lunch

_This chapter's song: "Run" - Hentaidesu _—————————————

Ah yes, another beautiful day in hell. Or prison for children where the attendance is obliged but a criminal record isn’t. Because what both jail and school boil down to are basically shoddily furnished facilities where whose grounds you’re prohibited to leave unless given a permit, you’re locked up and are served sickening broths they have the audacity to call food. Outrageous. Basically identical. Let’s all boycott school. Because screw education and the chance for a promising future, right?

But alas. School was a drag, once more. Although Payton is back now, you can’t help but feel bummed about your grades. You’d gotten your French quiz back today and saying it was bad would be the understatement of the century. Well, let’s not be overdramatic here. It was just far-beneath-passing-grade-ish. Payton however doesn’t seem to pick up on it, even when you’ve reached lunch break and introduce her to your new friends. “Guys, this is Lady Payton of the house Jones. Lady Payton, these are my peasant friends.”

“Gee, thanks”, MJ mumbles. “Sorry, _pleasant_ friends”, you grimace sarcastically. Ned doesn’t take notice of the comments. “Welcome to the Linch Table Buddies!”

“Nobody agreed to that name”, MJ whispers to Payton, who starts giggling.

Corny much? What’s next, a group-hug?

“You know what this calls for? A group-hug!”

Look at you, you’re a real psychic. Snort, get it? Psychic, Psyched? Ha, ha, ha, ha. Ha. Ha ha.

It is to late to escape now. You cannot escape the corniness. The corn is coming for you. So you all awkwardly hug each other, which involved a few uncomfortable back-pats. Nobody liked that.

Now you decide to risk a bite of whatever the ever-loving wet sock the cafeteria chef concocted in their funky kitchen witch-pot today. But before that, you and the newly established Lunch Table Buddies discuss what it’s supposed to be this time.

Payton guesses Mac and Cheese with spinach.

Peter votes for veggie pizza.

You and Ned go for meatballs and broccoli, MJ guesses kale.

“Just... kale?”, Peter shoots her a strange look. MJ simply shrugs. “You can never know with these people.”

But as the cafeteria menu reveals, you’re all wrong! It’s red curry and rice. The broth is green. “They- didn’t even get the color right”, you snicker, scooping some up with your spoon, to then let it splosh miserably back in your plate. Payton shakes her head. “Tell me about it. What in the world happened to the rice?”

But bad food is better than no food and you gulp some of it down. “After everything, this is just... degrading”, you groan. Your nerves are at their absolute ends. “Today sure was bad but are you alright?”, MJ’s eyebrows are raised. You respond with a sigh and let your head sink into your arms. Payton tries to explain. “Her grades are just a bit-“ “They’ve dropped very low.” “Lower than a sick beat, we know”, Payton says while rubbing your back. You don’t see it, but Ned and her are exchanging some suspicious looks.

“Actually”, Ned reports finally, ”Peter would _love_ to help you study!” Hearing that, you jolt upwards. “You’d do that?”

The guy in question seems to be way more fixated on his discolored rice than the conversation, making Ned elbow him in the side to get his attention. “Ow, what?”

“You’d help y/n study for the upcoming quizzes, right?”, Ned smirks again. Peter’s eyes roll nervously back and forth between you and his best buddy.

“Oh, ah, sure, yeah”, he laughs nervously. You stretch your mouth into your signature grimace-smile and give him a thumbs-up. “Nice, thanks, Pete. I’ll text you the address.”

Again in confusion, he blinks several times in a row and then nods, lips pressed together. Somehow that guy always looks like he’s got something like a frog in his mouth. Huh, strange.

The school-bell soon puts and end to your fleeting feeling of freedom. You dump the rest of your “food” into the trash (sorry, planet earth) then turn to Peter. “See you at... four-thirty?”

There his frog-hiding-mouth is again. “Yeah, sure, of course!” In the background you hear Ned “he he he”-ing self-pleasantly. “I knew you two had chemistry.”


	7. Study Session

_Song for the chapter: she doesn’t know me - halberd_ ——————————————————

Your prison sentence finally comes to an end and you arrive at home at roughly 4:10 pm.

As you’d expected, Grace was still absent, probably hiding at one of her friends’ house again.

“Aren’t you helping out grandma today?”, your mother asks from the couch as you stand in the door frame trying to jiggle your shoes off.

“Can’t”, your sneakers finally come off. “Frien- classmate is coming over to study today.”

Eyebrows raised, she gives you a curious look. If she were in the mood to roast you, she would’ve definitely said _“That’s right, y/n, you don’t have any friends!”_ But your mom would never do that. Not on a good day, which you know it is since not only is it Wednesday, the day her shift ends earlier, she’s also sipping on some hot chocolate. On a bad to mediocre day it would be unsweetened black tea. Classic mom.

“Who is it?”, she asks, ruffling through your hair as you walk by. “Guy named Peter. Parker.“

Your mother smiles warmly. “Ah, I think I’ve spoken to his aunt at a school convention once. Should I prepare you guys some snacks?” “No thanks, it’s alright.”

Cool, you’ve got about twenty minutes left until Peter arrives. Should you change your clothes? Something fancy maybe? Is your hair looking alright? Darn, it never sits the way you’d like it to.

_But jeez, y/n. This is a study session, not a date! A fresh load of deodorant should do. No need to freak out over this._

Before you know it, the doorbell rings. You hear your mother kindly greeting your classmate, then she calls for you. Nyooming out of the bathroom, a trail of a fruity, yet artificial scent fills the air behind you.

“Oh, _hello_ there, Peter!”

“Hey, y/n! How are you?” “Irrelevant. Want a tour?”

He looks at you in a surprised kind of manner. “Yeah, sure!”

Hence you speed-guide him through the apartment. “This is the living room, back there we’ve got our kitchen, that’s mom’s bedroom, that’s her bathroom, over there is my sister’s room, mine to the left and another bathroom next to it. And that one is-“, you pause for a second. “_was_ my brother’s room. I mean, it still is. Moving on!”

You drag the slightly overwhelmed Peter into your bedroom and you sit down on the two desk chairs (one of which you’ve stolen from Grace’s room earlier), then Peter pulls out his French material from his backpack.

“What’d you like to start with?”, he asks, briefly looks at you but almost immediately averts his eyes again. “Grammar, definitely. How in the world do you even-“

You’re cut off by your mom storming into your room with a plate of fresh fruits and two blobs of yogurt. “Hey kids”, she sets down the plate next to Peter’s books. “For your braincells!”

As fast as she’s arrived, she leaves again before either of you could mutter “thank you”. “

Nice. Anyway, how do you conjugate in the _passé simple_ again? How, and especially why does this time form exist?”

And time flies. Soon, it’s noon. Kidding, it’s just turned six o’clock. Peter announces that he promised to be home by eight, so your mom offers him to stay for dinner since he’s still got time, which he gladly accepts.

Today she’s making bulgogi and kimbap, typical Korean dishes, which you assume she chose to impress your dear guest. Her strategy definitely works.

“This is absolutely amazing, Mrs Foster”, he compliments. Though Grace has arrived earlier, she doesn’t speak a word at the table, instead curiously observes Peter as he gobbles down his dinner.

“It’s nothing, Peter.“ You and your sister often praise your mom’s cooking, the words of a guest such as Peter’s seem to come across as much more appreciative. Maybe you have been taking your mom for granted a bit.

Unfortunately, it’s soon time for Peter to leave and after a round of goodbyes, you walk walk a couple of blocks down the street with him. “Are you sure you wanna take the subway? My mom did offer to drive you.”

“It’s alright, I can totally take- totally. The subway. I can take it.” You see him uncomfortably rub the back of his neck as he strolls next to you.

Silence.

“So, do you have time tomorrow?”, you finally say. “Of course! If you want me to, that is. Help you”, Peter looks you in the eye, smiling with an unrecognizable sort of emotion glowing in his face. You return the grin, though wonder if you managed to capture that feeling he wore on his face a second ago.

“Thank you again. I really appreciate your help, Peter.” “Anytime!”

Now the subway station is only a stone’s throw away.

“Straight ahead and then to the left, you pretty literally can’t miss it. Just follow the stench of public toilet.”

You‘ve stopped walking now and bury your hands in the pockets of your hoodie.

“Great, nice! Well, not really”, he chuckles, looking you in the eye again.

“See you tomorrow?”

“Yep!”, he curtly shoots you a pair of finger-guns, then suddenly runs off. “That- I think that’s my train! Bye!”


	8. Sunsets

_This chapter's song: "florence" - Hayne, Frad_ ————————————————

With a tranquil smile adorning your face and the image of Peter running off to the subway station resounding in your mind, the shift in you attitude visibly makes your sister build up a certain suspicion regarding you.

"What's that look?", she wonders out loud. Just as you're about to express your gratefulness for her finally conversating with you again, she adds: "He's pretty cute, huh?"

"And a bit too old for you." Grace gets up from the couch and stands right in front of you, arms crossed, smirking mischievously. "C'mon, y/n. There's clearly something going on between the two of you!"

"We're classmates", you raise your eyebrows and walk around her towards your room. "I'm- not really interested in Peter anyway." "Right. Also, I'm sorry about the other day. That was pretty stupid of me, I shouldn't've-"

"I'm sorry too. Next time, try and call me when I've got at least half an hour of time, aight?" Your younger sister grins.

"And you pack your suit."

The next morning, your best friend Payton meets you by your locker, though she has definitely seen the earbuds you have in, but has apparently decided to fashionably ignore them.

“Sooo, how’d it go, y/n?” You take your time at yanking out your school books. “We has a good study session.”

“Did anything _special_ happen?” Exhaling, you close the locker door.

“Peter stayed over for dinner..?” Hearing that, Payton gasps excitedly, smiling with amazement. Then MJ pops up next to you, greeting the two of you with a deadpan “Hey, losers.” “Did you hear, Peter stayed over for dinner!”, Payton makes sure to let her know. MJ turns to you. “Solid work, y/n.”

Later that day, you spot Peter in the hallway and approach him enthusiastically. “Hey, Pete! Do you have time to come over again?”

He presses his mouth together to a grimace. “Can’t, sorry. I’m going- uh- to Liz’s party tonight. I could invite you too, though. Spider-Man’s coming apparently”, he seems to immediately regret having said the last part and inhales sharply, annoyed with himself.

“Eh, I’m fine. Not really my thing anyway.” Besides, you’ve still got plenty of chances to encounter Spidey. Not like you’re “colleagues” or anything, eh?

Since you don’t actually have any plans for the night, you decide to head out after dinner again. The sun is just about to go down and you’re jumping around in your suit, pleasurably inhaling the fresh evening air. From up there, on skyscraper roofs, the exhaust can’t get to you. Suck it, air pollution.

You look down and let your glance flow on the streets, watching the passing cars. Scanning the billboards. The crowds passing by, people walking hurriedly, others merely strolling, as if taking a walk. Maybe the Spider-Guy was right. There really isn’t a lot going on in terms of criminality. From up there, New York City doesn’t appear to be more than a few dozen moving blobs, blindingly saturated, bright colors and blurry figures. From a distance, everything is fine.

You let your gaze shift even farther upwards to the sky. Now the clouds have turned orange. As you watch them graciously and peacefully go by, you lay down and turn on some music in your suit. It’s connected to your preferred music app, which is one of the best built-in features you’ve discovered so far. Your earphones don’t come anywhere _close_ to the sound-quality the speaker of your half-open helmet have.

Before you really realize it, the sky has turned dark, at least the part you’re fixated on. Closer to the horizon, it’s still got some color, an orange-red-rainbowish situation going on, but in your area, the stars are beginning to push through. You whip out your phone, no missed calls from mom so far. After a while (maybe an hour. Maybe fourth minutes, who knows), a familiar figure shows up beside you.

“Hey.”

You turn to him. “Hi.”

Spider-Man sits down as well.

“Thought I’d find you here”, he says. It’s the bank building again. “Aren’t you supposed to be at a party?” He flinches and turns to you. “How’d you- what?”

“Word spread quickly at school.” Spidey gulps. “Was busy stopping some bad guys, look what I found”, he explains and presents you a piece of futuristic looking tech.

“Woah, what’s that?”

“Not sure. Those guys tried to sell some of this stuff and I managed to grab this. I’m pretty sure it’s harmless.”

“Right.”

“Hey, do we go to the same school?” You widen your eyes in surprise, though he definitely can’t see it through your tinted visor.

“Happy did mention we’re the same age. Midtown High?”, you ask carefully.

“Yeah!”

“Whoop, guess we’ve gotta be even more careful with our secret identities and crap.”

His mask is once again lifted a bit to uncover his mouth.

“Pretty crazy though. I mean, what are the odds that two kids from the same city and school develop superpowers and become superheroes?”, it sounds more like a rhetorical question.

“That’s true. I don’t mind it being you, though”, woop. That came out sounding corny. But Spidey doesn’t seem to mind and flashes you a big smile. How cute.

“I don’t, either!” You let out a tired sounding chuckle.

“I guess I’ve said this before, but you make this whole job a whole lot more tolerable.” He’s still smiling so preciously. Looking like a hundred thousand bucks there, honey. You take a deep breath. “Keep me posted on that whole weapon selling thing though, alright? I’d like to help if I can.” “Sure! But hanging out like this is also... fun, right?”

_Of course it is. Practically anything involving you can be considered fun._

You don’t dare to say it out loud and simply nod instead. His smile is contagious. You can’t help but catch the Spidey-Smiley-Syndrome, too.


	9. Run

_Check out this song: “Run (Alternative Mix)” - BTS_———————————————————

\- “That makes it x squared, which is 169... So x is 13!”, you exclaim and rapidly scribble down the numbers while Peter brightly cheers you on.

“Nice! You’re getting really good at these kinds of formulas”, he high-fives you excitedly, right after which you smack your math books close and let out a relieved sigh.

“That’s it for today. I think I’m ready for the quiz tomorrow.”

“Sure! You did great!”

You grin mischievously. “With your help, yes.”

As he chuckles at your comment, Peter nervously averts his eyes and blushes just a tiiiiiny bit. You’re exhausted but satisfied.

Over the course of the last few study sessions, you’ve noticed yourself improve significantly. All due to Peter’s help, of course.

“Wanna stay for dinner? Mom’s not coming home until nine but I could totally whip something up. I’m talking good ol’ microwave pizza”, you suggest and lean back into your rolly office chair. Peter declines politely, which you take the liberty to assume is because of your lacking culinary talent, even when it comes to something as simple as shoving a goddarn pizza into the microwave.

To be fair, you aren’t _that_ bad at cooking. You’ve never poisoned anyone or set the kitchen on fire, however your abilities clearly pale in comparison to your mother’s, as her kimbap is unbeatable.

“By the way”, Peter is starting to pack is backpack. “I’ve joined the decathlon team again, Ned and I will be gone for a bit next week.”

“Why’d you rejoin?” His glance shifts around your bedroom.

“Um- We’re going to Washington for nationals.” You stare at him expectantly, not taking his statement as an answer.

“I thought... it was gonna be fun?”

“But wh- Ah, whatever. Enjoy your trip”, you stroll into the hallway and open the apartment door for him.

By now, you don’t need to walk him to the subway station anymore.

After a nice, full-night’s sleep, you wake up well-rested, and calm. How uncommon, something is very, very off.

You shoot a casual glance towards your alarm clock, which shows that it’s 7:48.

_It’s 7:48!_

For context, your bus leaves at 7:30 and school starts at 8:00 sharp. The ride normally takes around twenty minutes and the next one won’t come until half an hour later. Absolutely fantastic! Good thing your math quiz takes place first period, which is starting in precisely twelve minutes!

You literally leap out of bed, throw on some clothes, grab your bag and run. Both your mother and sister have left earlier, your mom’s got a meeting and decided to drive your sister to school on the way. Under normal circumstances, at least one of them would’ve woken you up from your cozy little slumber if not your alarm clock, but now you’re on your own with your dumbass self who must’ve hit the off-button instead of snooze at some point.

You’ll never make it in time. Still, you dart outside and evaluate your options. Calling mom is pointless since she must be at the meeting right now. None of your friends nearby have a license yet and calling a taxi is expensive- besides, any car would be too slow. Part of the road about in the middle of the way to your school’s blocked off because of construction work. Not to mention traffic. Public transportation would take too long to arrive at your station. Running is clearly out of the picture. Darn it.

Unless...?

You’ve got no other choice but to try. So you pull your dark hoodie deep over your face and jump. Right onto the building next to you. Directly after landing on its roof, you push yourself off of it yet again and leap forward, clinging onto the next wall. And the next. And the next. You just keep going and going, the fear of arriving too late drives you as you make your way hopping around the city towards Midtown High. You glance at your watch.

7:53.

Heck, this way is pretty damn long. Then, you spot a train peeking through the gap between the buildings. You bounce towards it and cling onto its top with your hands with support from your feet. Man, this is giving you some serious flashbacks.

But alas. Only about a minute has passed since you’ve last checked the time and knowing this line, the train should reach the station near your school in about two minutes. Unfortunately, this one doesn’t stop anywhere close to your apartment, otherwise you’d definitely use this line more often. Suddenly, your phone rings and you almost drop it into the abyss between you and the train tracks seemingly racing by you rapidly.

“Yeah?”

“Y/n? Did you wake up this morning?” It’s your sister.

“Of course, I’m not an idiot.”

“Sure, just wanted to check on you since your alarm clock didn’t seem to be set”, Grace explains.

So you didn’t accidentally turn it off, you never even turned it on. Superb.

“Yeah, I totally caught the bus.”

“That’s gre- Hold on, what are those sounds?”

“No idea what you mean”, you yell through the wind that comes with the rapid speed the train’s driving at.

“Woah, no need to burst my eardrums, sis.”

“I’m on a train!”

“Why are you screaming?”, Grace repeats.

“I’m on it. On the roof. Just hanging!”

Silence.

“Really? That’s so cool! Are you joking? You really did forget to set your alarm, huh?”

“Shut up! I’ll still make it.” Over the horizon, you can already spot the station the train will stop at.

“You know, mom and I can’t always wake you.”

“Thank you, I’m aware.” You jump off before the train comes to a halt, hoping nobody will spot you, all while holding your phone in one hand and resume to your usual jumping business.

“Y/n?”, Grace is still audible.

“I know I’m pretty dumb and-“

“You’re super cool, y/n. Good luck on the quiz!”

Now you land right in front of the school’s entrance and head inside. You simply pant into the speaker as an answer and hang up, stumbling straight towards the classroom.

It’s 8:00 on the dot.


	10. The trial: Bank-heist

_Song: "Piece of Cake" - Shady Cicada_

———————————————————

Throughout the entire 45 minutes of taking your math quiz the adrenalin kept you pumped and animated the braincells you desperately needed to apply all your newly gained knowledge regarding math. You probably did fine.

On the way out of the classroom you intend to thank Peter yet again for his help but you're stopped by Payton who starts questioning you.

"Missed the bus again this morning?" "Yeah."

She nods as you walk down the hallway towards your lockers.

"Have you ever considered doing parkour?", she asks suddenly.

"Huh?"

"You know, I saw the stunt you pulled before class, you'd definitely enjoy parkour!"

Crap, she saw how you jump off of the _roof_ of a building and landing completely _unharmed_ right in front of the school entrance? Well, Payton did have a seat right by the window after all.

"Figured you weren't already into that business since you would've definitely told me if you'd found a new hobby, isn't that right?", she nudges her elbow into your side.

How ironic.

"Ehh, from what I know it sounds _way_ too dangerous", you respond.

Parkour shenanigans aside, you eventually get back home that afternoon, by bus this time around. You're greeted by your mother sipping on some hot chocolate seated in the living room area chatting with your boss. Tony Stark is sitting there ever so comfortably as if it was his own apartment, which he could make it with a wave of his hand, calling the price "pocket money" if anything. Billionaires, man.

"Y/n! We were just talking about you, honey", your mom calls out and motions her hand to tell you to sit down.

"You see, Ms. Foster, y/n's prototype is starting to look absolutely magnificent", Stark says, casually sipping his coffee.

Curious, your mother turns to you again.

"Really? What's it for, honey?"

"Ah, it's a surprise", you answer. "Granted there are still some major hardware issues, it's coming together quite nicely", Stark explains, putting on his very best poker face. "That's actually", he sets down his mug and gets up from the couch, "exactly why I'm here. Kid, you'll have to come with me to settle some things with the-"

"Color swatches", you blabber, cutting him off.

"Yes, the color swatches. If You don't mind?", Stark says, turning to your mother for approval.

"Of course. I'll have to discuss a few things with y/n first", she replies, they shake hands and Stark announces that he'll be waiting in the car before he heads out.

Your mother waits before the door shuts until she lets out an exhausted sigh and softly grabs your shoulders. "Y/n. You know what my thoughts are on Mr Stark since-"

"Since what happened", your voice cracks, you gulp.

"Right. But remember that I'm very, very proud of you. For landing an internship. At Stark Industries out of all places. It's unbelievable." It really is. "You're doing great, honey. Never give up, you hear me?" All you can do is nod before she pats your back and hands you your backpack. You glance at her again, smiling, before you head out as well.

"Good, I'm hoping you've packed your suit?", Stark questions a bit after you've entered the car.

"Yeah, it's in my backpack." Look at you go, you've learned absolutely no lesson after being busted by your sister. Not like you have a literal million other hiding spots you could use to store it in or anything. "Fantastic, ready to rob a bank?", he turns to you, dead serious.

"_What_."

"It's a simulation, a sort of test designed especially for you on the idea of a bank heist."

"Why? What for?"

"You see, certain functions of both your and the other kid's suit are restricted by what I call the _training wheels protocol._ You've really gotta prove yourself in order to unlock all those nifty little gadgets, kid." "Especially for me. I reckon that's why the Spiderboy isn't here?" Stark's been looking out of the window for a while now.

"Yes, and also because... well, I'm afraid he's not quite... _ready_ for any of this yet."

An awkward silence fills the vehicle. Happy shoots you a sympathetic look through the rear view mirror before Stark continues explaining.

"All of the trials are built in a way so you should be able to solve them with your learned abilities and help from your suit. They're all completely harmless. To some degree, at least. They won't kill you or leave you permanently injured.

"Again, this one is based on the concept of a bank heist. You break in, remaining undetected, of course, crack the vault and leave with the loot. Since it's your first trial, you'll have help from Happy available at all times and you can pause or quit the test whenever you'd like. Got it?" Only a little overwhelmed, you nod wildly, which Stark answers with a nod of his own. You're still on a highway, the drive might take a while.

You decide to use this opportunity to revise all of your and your suit's functions (at least the ones that are available).

It's fairly simple. Amongst others, your powers include jumping very high and far, sticky hands and feet as well as camouflaging or turning mostly invisible. The latter you still haven't learned to do on command. The multi-million spandex fursuit in neon colors has a few nifty abilities to it as well.

Shooters are located in each palm of your hand, which create orbs out of various substances which can be thrown like water-balloons and also pop open like them. The orbs consist out of a water and powder mixture, for which you've got little cartridge-doohickeys attached to your waist. The powders each have different features. You've got an acid powder which dissolves and burns through virtually any substance, a sticky powder and hypnosis. Psychedelic, whatever you want to call it.

It really only works on humans, blurs their vision and sometimes gives them strange hallucinations or something. Definitely not as strong as certain _stuff_ but it works to briefly knock out opponents.

The water-balloon orbs are to you like the webs are to Spider-Man. Kind of. You yourself are immune to the effects. The Psyched-suit is also water resistant, allowing you to swim, which also closes off your helmet so you don't, like, drown. You can also use this function to fill up the water cartridges. Lastly, there are those weird sticky ropes, kind of like a frog's tongue. They can be used like grappling hooks, but you haven't completely figured those boys out yet.

Eventually, you arrive at a cement block, essentially. Some kind of industrial building. A garage or hangar maybe. So inconspicuous from the outside, but if it's anything like what you're imagining, the inside will definitely bring a whole load of surprises. As you enter, you spot a door to the left with the typical restroom signs on it, as well as some kind of control room with darkened glass walls to your right.

"Ready?", Stark asks. All you can do is nod your head. "You know, kid, if you don't feel like doing this right now we could just postpone it. Try any other time. Whenever you want to", he explains sympathetically while you stand there, frowning, eyes locked on the ground.

Are you really going to give up now? Well, technically you could simply try any other time, but now that you've come so far, _literally_, at least an hour long drive- are you going to let mere stage fright stop you? You open the zipper and take out your suit and hand the backpack to Stark.

"I am."

As the garage-door-like gate closes behind you, the room goes fully dark. The visor automatically turns to night vision mode, which leaves a slight green tint over your entire view, but at least you're able to see now. "Proceed with caution", Happy warns through the speakers on the inside of your helmet.

Before taking a step you scan the room which is laid out like a hallway, neither the floor nor the walls seem suspicious. Yet. You carefully start walking, eyes moving along the walls looking out for potential dangers, slow steps.

It's quiet. You keep walking down the hallway, staying alert, checking the walls, the ceiling, the floor as-

_Click. _

Weak lights flicker on on the ceiling, you wince in response.

"What the hell is this?", you complain in a whispering voice. Happy seems to have heard.

"Keep your eyes open", he says when you reach a corner which you stretch your head round and scan the eerily dim lit room and quickly spot two cameras about 35 feet ahead of you on the ceiling.

"That's all?", you wonder out loud and casually shoot a sticky orb on each of their lenses to block their vision.

"Don't get careless, kid", Happy mumbles. "There might be some things you can't see."

"Like what?", you respond annoyed and go on, only to be greeted by an object darting through the air.

"What the-" You dodge it. The thing smacks onto the wall behind you, leaving a liquify, purple stain suspiciously reminiscent of your own shooty shoot acid orbs.

"What in the goddamn?", you stare at it in disbelief. "Where'd that come from? I definitely blocked those cameras!"

You take a step back and wildly look around the room.

"What did I miss, Happy? Is there another camera or something?" "Something like that. You can't see it."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean? Some invisible sensors or some jazz?" You groan and massage your temples to stimulate your brain cells. All two of them.

"Sensors. Sensors. Something like... uh. Hm. Like, a microphone. No, I've been talking this whole time and I only got shot at once. Darn. Invisible like- Ah! Lasers! There are lasers!" "Bingo."

"Just gotta make these suckers visible now", you mumble and pull out one of the cartridges with powder in it. Sticky orb powder will do. You pour some of it out on your hand and softly blow it into the air. Faint red lines going into different directions appear, the spaces between them about big enough for you to fit through. You move ahead, avoiding the lasers very nicely. Great work, you.

When the lines get more faint, you throw around some powder again and advance, squeezing yourself through the gaps. It's going surprisingly well as the lasers keep getting lined more tightly and closer to each other and you've got absolutely no chance of walking through there without touching one of them. Higher up however there are none. You activate your frog tongue grappling hook and shoot yourself up into the air, which subsequently triggers a storm of poisonous orbs that only miss you by millimeters.

With your back pressed to the wall you climb forward. Sideways by first sticking your left hand and foot a few inches ahead, then pulling the right ones with you and so on. You move slowly and probably look like a caterpillar, but you're moving! "Creative solution, kid." No more lasers to your feet. Before you decide to jump off however, you spot a tiny little piece of paper that has a neon green number "4" written on it. You take it with you as you cautiously land on the floor.

"Is this part of a code? Happy, could you please write that down?"

"You got it, kid." Up next, you spot two doors, one on each side of the hallway. You cautiously try to open them but they seem to be locked, requiring a keycard or similar. Of course you figure whatever's hiding behind them must be important enough for you to want to break into those rooms somehow, therefore you attempt to break in somehow.

The doors are made of steel or some kind of metal. Located over the handle is a box of sorts with a slit for a card to fit through. Curious, you grab your wallet and stick your student ID into the slot. A small, green light on the box flickers on and off continuously but the handle won't budge. Would've been to nice. Instead you carefully pull off the black plastic cover, revealing a whole lot of wires and electronic pieces.

"Hey, my brother once showed me how this stuff works", you say as you fumble around in the box, pulling out and re-sticking in the wires. After a few seconds only, the door slides open.

"Too easy." Inside you find a shelf with nothing but a couple of notes and a single key on it. The little papers have various numbers written on them, "104" and "156", both in black as well as a red "3" on another. The key itself is blank.

After scanning the room one last time you make your way ahead to the other door- which must've sprung open when you cracked the lock on the other. You find a row of safes inside, numbered from 100 up to around 200. You try out safe 104, where the key fits perfectly, turns around and- doesn't open. Next you attempt to open number 156- and now a different door springs open, revealing an orange 0 painted on the very back of the little locker.

"That's all?" Just to be safe (hah) you stick your hand in there and fumble around for something you might have missed. Somewhere in a corner you find and press a button which suddenly opens both of the other safes you used to unlock this one just before. In 104 there's a keycard, 156 contains yet another piece of paper, blank besides a yellow "6" on it.

"Something's up with these. I know they're part of a code, but what about those colors?”

"Alright, so far you've got a green 4, a red 3, an orange 0 and a yellow 6." "How do those have _anything_... Huh." You rub your forehead which is practically soaked from sweat.

"Do those indicate the order, maybe?" No answer, so you just go with it. You leave the room and then walk further down the hallway. You're standing directly in front of a gigantic metal gate now. That must be the vault. Oh sweet mother of the holy raspberry crowns.

There's yet another little box with a slit for a keycard as well as a number keyboard thing. So you stick in the card you basically stole from that one locker and then attempt to enter the code.

"Rainbow colors", you mumble as you tap number 3, followed by 0, which was orange. 6, then a 4 and lastly- Hesitantly, your finger hovers over the panel.

"I didn't get the last number, it's a five-digit code. Did I leave something out?"

"Well, you were right about the rainbow colors", Happy responds. "Yes..?"

"How many colors does a rainbow normally have?" You press number 7. The gate opens. Then inside, you grab what was placed carefully in a glass cabinet- your backpack.


	11. Heat Wave

_Song: Heat Wave - Snail Mail _——————————————————————

Sweat is dripping down your face as you finally take off your ridiculous helmet.

"Piece of cake", you respond to Stark after he asked you how it went. "Too easy, was that supposed to be a challenge?"

With a snort, Stark crosses his

arms doubtfully and announces: "You'll get to keep the loot as a

reward for completing this trial." "It's- the loot is my backpack."

"Generous of me, don't you think? Additionally you've unlocked a new feature for the suit, a map that auto-saves you most visited locations, places like your home and school already saved. Wanna try it out?"

"What do you mean?", you ask him while exiting the building. Happy pulls over with the car and Stark casually walks up to it, claiming that he's got somewhere to be and making your way home by yourself is "an excellent opportunity to try out the new function".   
Unsure of what just happened, you remain motionless and watch the car speed off and away. Bye bye.

You've been inside this goddamn suit for at least an hour and it's really starting to piss you off. Better start making your way home, then. You do so by employing your favorite mode of transportation: hopping from and onto rooftops. Such fun and absolutely not dangerous at all.

As you go, the high-tech map app calculates precisely how long it'll still take you to get to your destination with your current speed and showing a simple yet incredibly accurate 3D rendered plan at the bottom left of the visor-display. Google Maps could never.

When you eventually reach your neighborhood you turn off the guide-map-thing for a brief check-up through the city to make sure there isn't too much trouble going on for New York standards.

  
_Alright, no pickpockets spotted, drug dealers- ah, I'll let em be. No bank robberies except for mine, and-_

"I am here!", an excited red figure swinging by you exclaims. You both simultaneously land on the nearest building which is, coincidentally, that bank building that's become your unofficial meeting spot.

"Spider-Might, heh. All you need now are those weird rabbit-ear hair thingies. Any news?"

"Actually, yeah. I managed to track down one of those weapon dealers-", he explains while munching on a churro, again. 

"He's headed for Maryland."

"Huh? What are you expecting to see there?"

"Villain hideout probably. Meaning I'll be gone next week, day or two." Spidey pauses for a while, all you hear is his awkward chewing. "Wanna- uh, come with me?", he then proposes.

"To the Evil Team Hideout?"

"Yeah! Could be fun, you know. You and me, two superheroes investigating..." You chuckle softly.

"I don't know how that's for you, but I've definitely gotta go to school. My mom would kill me if I missed anything close to two classes."

"Oh. Next time?", Spidey flashes you a noticeable, friendly smile since his mouth is still uncovered.

"Sure, I'd raid a villain lair with you anytime. Just be careful, alright?", you add. "You'll definitely end up killing yourself by accident when I'm not around."

"Last time I checked, _you_ needed _my_ help to save that train from crashing into oblivion", he counters cheekily. "But to keep you a clear conscience we could totally stay in touch. Wanna exchange numbers?"

"Won't that, like, reveal our identities?"

"Oh, right. Suit IDs?" "That's a thing?"

"Yep, absolutely."

You really do learn something new every day. You send him a test message reading "boo", in reaction to which he lets out a theatrical scream. What a dork. You both laugh anyway.

“I’ll save you as... ‘Spider-Might’”, you announce proudly as Spidey studies you carefully.

“And you’re, uh, Tsuyu Asui? Froppy?”

Eventually he comes up with the genius nickname “Green.”

“Since, you know, your suit is so green? Yeah, Green?”

“Too sweet, Undies.”

He coughs loudly, almost choking, asking you if you’d like a bite of his churro which is probably completely covered in his spit now. You decline politely.

After that you sit in silence for a while.

“You won’t get bored while I’m gone, right?”

“Nah, I’ve got my hands full with Stark’s tr-, uh, with school. Yes, I’m extremely busy.”

“Oh! And you’re still able to balance all those responsibilities? Woah.”

Involuntarily you let out a sarcastic laugh.

“No. I’m really not.“ He doesn’t say anything. “Man, I could really use a break. Just- go out there and have fun. Live a little, no responsibilities. Just for a bit.”

Spidey shoots you a very brief glance but then looks down again.

“You know, I could-“, he chuckles awkwardly.

“We could- do something together sometime.” Exhausted, you lean back and lay on the ground, the roof of a skyscraper, mind you, and hide your face in your hands.

“Secret identities”, you remind him.

“Yeah... I’ll- I’ll figure something out! We’ll hang out when I’m back. It’s gonna be fun!” Aw. You decide to sit back up and pat him on his back.

“Thanks, Red.”

“Anything for you! But uh-“, he slowly starts standing up. “I’ve- I’ve gotta go now, I’ll see you in a few days.“

“Have fun, don’t get into any trouble without me.”

“I would never. See ya, Green!”

And you can’t help but smile.


	12. The Glue

_Hello my dudes. I know it’s been a while but I hope you’ll enjoy this chapter nonetheless. If you’ve got any critique and/or questions for me feel free to write them in the comments!_

_Since nobody's complained about this so far, I'll continue leaving you guys a song at the begin_ning _of each chapter. This one's "Using You" - Mars Argo_

———————————————————————————

Saturday morning. Nothing as lovely as being awakened by the blaring sound of the smoke alarm stemming from the kitchen. These days you can't even get sleep when you try to.

The sound won't stop, so you Dreh yourself towards the door and tear the door open, storming into the hallway.

Grace, standing in front of the stove with a pan in her hand, awkwardly waves at you.

"Morning! I was gonna make us some scrambled eggs."

You turn off the smoke alarm and snatch the pan out of her hand.

"Where's mom?", you ask while attempting to scrape off the burnt mass from the inside of the pan.

"Ah, she's out for brunch with a friend or something."

"And she left you in charge of making breakfast."

"Well", Grace mumbles, "not exactly. But me, being the amazing, irreplaceable sister I am, felt like cooking you some breakfast!"

There's no use. You throw the entire pan in the trash can. Of course you'll separate it correctly later and whatever.

You observe her carefully.

"Spit it out. What do you want?"

"Oh, I don't want anything. As explained, I simply wanted to do a good deed! That isn't illegal or anything, is it?", she explains as she swiftly grabs a bowl and a box of cereal from the respective cupboards.

"No, but knowing you, you seem quite hungry for", you swoop in right as she opens the fridge to slam it close. "information. Eh?"

"Alright, alright", she says and puts her hands up innocently while backing off towards the kitchen island where she sets down the bowl and cereal box. "I've just been wondering how things are going for you, you know, famous superheroine, you're all over the news, you know? That must be quite a lot of responsibility." Her voice sounds almost genuinely empathetic. Almost.

Yet you give in. "Tell me about it. Red's gonna be out of town for a few days, meaning I'm all on my own."

"Red?"

"Spidey."

"You've given each other nicknames?", Grace inquires curiously, you ignore her.

"If something goes wrong in that time then it's- they'll blame me. I'll blame myself." You hide your face in your hands, classic y/n.

As you let out a sigh you feel Grace carefully placing her hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I- they'll understand. You're just a kid! You're not supposed to be doing the police's job or anything."

"I know."

Next thing you hear is Grace slurping her sugar-bomb cereal. Somehow she got to the milk without you noticing.

Instead of trying to head back to sleep you decide to check your phone.

** _ Today, 10:39 _ **

_**Payton🥰✨:** rISE AND SHINE_

_**You:** Mornin_

_**Payton**🥰**✨: **you comin to_ _the cinema today??_

_**You: **What are we watching?_

_**Payton🥰✨:** uh_

_**Payton🥰✨:** i dunno🤔🙃_

_**Payton🥰✨: **theres gotta be sth??_

_**You: **Payton, you know I'm broke_

_**You: **I'm not going to the movies just for the sake of it._

_**Payton🥰✨:** you should probably help out your grandma again then_

_**Payton🥰✨:** i mean she gave you a job 😶_

_**Payton🥰✨:** and u havent seen her in what_

_**Payton🥰✨:** three weeks? 👀_

_**You: **I've been busy!_

** **

_**Payton🥰✨: **with?_

_**You: **Studying!_

_**Payton🥰✨:** ur grades say otherwise 🙃_

_**You: **You know I have._

_**Payton🥰✨: **not very efficiently then 🥴_

_**Payton🥰✨:** is peter helping at all or just distracting you?_

You're seriously considering taking those emojis out of her name.

** _ Today, 10:43 _ **

_**Payton🥰✨:** ill take the lack of a response as a yes 🙃🙃_

** **

_**You: **He is helpful._

_**You: **I've just got a lot on my mind ig_

** **

_**Payton🥰✨:** aw_

_**Payton🥰✨: **you know im always here for you!!_

_**Payton🥰✨:** if you need anything just tell me💙💙_

_**You: **Of course, would you uh_

_**You:** Wanna come over? My mom's gone and Grace keeps pestering me_

_**Payton🥰✨:** ofc!!_

_**Payton🥰✨:** ill be right over ☺️💙_

As you turn off your phone and zone back into the real world all you hear is Grace noisily slurping her cereal again, curiously staring at you like a young puppy, eager to learn a new trick.

"Payton's coming over", you tell her and start walking towards your room.

Just as you're about to open the door you hear Grace calling out to you: "Y/n?"

She's loading the dishwasher.

"I wanted to ask- Do you think mom'll be angry that I ruined that pan?"

"...probably. You can tell her it's a science project or something."

Upon hearing the word "science" her eyes immediately go wide and she shoots you a thumbs-up before you close the door behind you.

Not before long you hear the doorbell ring. Too exhausted to get up yourself, you call out to Grace to open the door but receive no response. After two whole seconds of deep contemplation you eventually decide to welcome your friend in yourself.

"Heya!", Payton's face is bright as always but goes dark almost immediately after stepping into the apartment. "What's this smell?"

"Grace murdered a frying pan. Miserable attempt at making scrambled eggs on her part", you add in response to Payton looking at you in confusion.

Grace would've totally given some sort of snarky remark at that comment of yours. She must not have heard you.

You aimlessly let yourself fall onto the couch in the living room.

"Tell me", Payton asks as she, comfortably and more gracefully, sits down next to you. "How are you?"

"Not any better than that frying pan", you mumble, face buried in a green cushion.

"You know you can count on me, right? I'm here if you need someone to talk to", she says calmly.

"Who are you, a therapist?"

Payton stays silent.

"It's been-", you inhale sharply. "A rough time." The cushion smells like black tea.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry. Maybe you should actually-"

"What?"

"You know, talk to a therapist..."

How ironic.

“Pay, it’s alright.”

“Y/n, really.” Her hand reaches towards your arm. “I think it’s important for you to fully recover.”

“Recover? I’m fine! It’s been months anyways!”, you say, followed by a joyless laugh.

Payton, once more, doesn’t say anything, inviting you to keep talking.

“Not like he was the glue holding our family together or anything. What was left of it, anyways. Man, he was-“, your voice cracks. “He was the best.”

She softly starts stroking your arm.

Things were coming back to you all of a sudden.

“My brother.” Your nose is prickling, Vision getting blurry. Tears are running down your face, completely unbothered by your attempts of holding them back.

“I miss him.”


	13. It's a date

_Here's a song: "Just friends" - potsu_

—————————————————

Eventually, after shedding a few tears and laying there in silence, Payton leaves. She asks you if you're feeling any better and gives you a big, warm hug, then excuses herself in the name of her parents demanding for her to oeat lunch with them.

You thank her for being there for you, in response to which Payton looks at you like you've literally just swallowed her pair of sneakers in front of her own eyes. "What? Of course I'm always here for you, damn it, y/n! Really. You know you can tell me anything, girl."

Anything?

But before you can open your mouth she leaves. Her parents would most definitely report her missing if she dared even show up three whole minutes late. Payton's parents are like that, you suppose. A bit overprotective and a bit strict, you can't remember ever seeing Payton at any party, ever. Not like you were ever invited to one but that's beside the point. But they're good parents even if they've set a 9 pm curfew for their sixteen-year-old daughter. Speaking of parents, you notice a notification coming in on your phone, new message from mom.

_ **Today, 12:02** _

_** Mom:**_ _Good morning! Had some lovely brunch with Linda and co. but I'm probably not returning before 2pm. Would you mind making some lunch for you and Grace? There are some leftovers in the fridge or deep-frozen pizza if you'd like. Love, mom_

Your mother always signs off her messages like that. You reply with a simple "Sure, see ya" and then head over to the fridge as instructed, grab the plastic container full of mac and cheese and quickly heat it up in the microwave. You prepare two plates, one for yourself and one for Grace. After calling her name and not receiving an answer you go ahead and eat your portion.

You're convinced that she'll come and eat hers sooner or later so you enter your room, close the door so to not wake any suspicion in case your mom returned earlier than expected and change into your suit. At this point you're really kind of getting used to it.

Planning to text Spidey you open up the messages application, the suit-ID thing but the connection seems to be absolute trash. Reluctantly you exit through your window and hop around on a few rooftops until you get to your and Spidey's usual meeting spot, the roof of this bank building.

Obviously you weren't really planning on leaving the house, not on a Saturday, only to exchange a couple of messages with your sticky friend anyway.

The connection's stable now.

_ "Hello there, are you still alive?"_, you type out but delete it almost instantly. Bold of you to assume he's dead. Well, not really. Regardless, you try again.

_"I am here! How are you?"_ Fine, embrace your inner otaku. You send the message and receive a reply almost instantly.

_"Hello! Setting out on my grand adventure tomorrow"_, he writes.

_"Ah yes. Remember not to break your neck." _

_"I'll do my best!"_ You're imagining his face, covered by a mask, mind you, visibly glowing as he's typing the messages. In this very moment it feels like the two of you have known each other forever.

_"Remember, I've got something planned for us when I'm back!!"_ Reading that makes you anticipate his return even more. A free-time activity, just you two, outside of the whole superhero business?

_ "Which would be?"_, you ask out of sheer curiosity.

_"I've told you, it's a secret! But our identities obviously won't be revealed or anything" _Of course. You wouldn't want that. Red types again: _"Unless?? That's what you'd want?" _

Is it? Wouldn't you want to know who-? No, you wouldn't want your feelings to get in the way of you doing your damn work... not like you're doing a whole lot of it though. You decide to play it safe: _"If that's what you want?" Red takes his sweet time to reply. _

_"I mean, I have been wondering about who you are"_ Who wouldn't have? _"But honestly, it's enough for me knowing that you're my friend,, a really good friend."_ How sweet.

_"Soo the thing you've got planned isn't a date?"_, you ask cheekily.

_"Uh"_, he keeps typing. _"No? Yes?? Do you want it to be??" _

_"Well, yes. It's a date!"_, you reply, not thinking twice about what you've written. When you do realize what you've just said you damn near choke on your own spit. What the fuck.

_"Cool! I can't wait!"_, he says coolly but you suspect him being at least as freaked out as you currently are. Neither of you say anything after that, but nothing needs to be said. It's a date. You've gotten yourself a date! Your first actual date! You're going on a date with Spider-Man.


	14. The date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not getting this chapter out in time for Valentine's Day. But alas, I hope you enjoy this chapter (the first one in 2020, wohoo!)
> 
> This chapter's song: "First Date" - Frad

The next few days seem to drag on forever. It's become a habit for you now to check your phone pretty much every free second, just in case Spidey gives details about the date you're so excited about. You did manage to sync your suit's messenger application with your phone somehow, a bold yet practical move. As long as no-one ever dares to check your phone without permission, you should be fine. 

It's just another boring day at school. Peter and Ned have returned from their trip and at are telling you, Payton and MJ all about their crazy experiences from the trip during lunch. Well, it was mostly Ned that was doing the storytelling.

"And I kid you not, Spider-Man _himself_ saved us! Right, Peter?", Ned elbows his side after Peter doesn't respond.

"Yeah, totally." He sounds distant and lost in his thoughts. Thinking about Liz, perhaps? 

Payton sighs and shakes her head with a crooked grin. "Ah, that Spider-Man. He's pretty hot, huh?"

"Tell me about it", you mumble, devouring your pasta. Ned shoots Peter a look you can't quite read, but Peter doesn't even bother looking at his friend.

"So, y/n, Peter. How are your study sessions going?", Ned asks. Almost immediately, Peter snaps out of his daydream.

"Oh, actually, I've- I can't tonight. Sorry, I've got... plans", Peter pulls up the corner of his lips for a split second, then looks away again.

"Ah, that's alright. I started this cool new anime recently, _Blue_ _Exorcist_. I can just binge that instead", you decide to let him know, but Peter doesn't seem to have returned to his reverie. 

And like you announced, later that afternoon you open your laptop to continue watching that absolute banger of an anime. Homework you've completely given up on, you don't bother unless it's an assignment you need to hand in. 

However, you don't get through more than two and a half episodes until you receive a message on your phone. 

**From Red: ** _"HEY! You free this afternoon?"_

_"Sure, I'm not doing anything particularly important." _You reply.

_"Perfect, I'll meet you on the roof of that building we always go to?"_

_"You got it."_

Now you're starting to get even more curious. What kind of place is he taking you? After all, where could the two of you go in peace, without getting weird looks for wearing your suits? Without having to reveal your identities to each other? The answer is simple. 

When you get to the rooftop of the aforementioned building, Spidey's already there. He greets you quickly but doesn't exactly answer when you ask where he's taking you.

"I've told you, it's a surprise! But I'm sure you'll love it."

He gestures for you to follow him and starts web-slinging around the surrounding sky-scrapers while you jump along behind him. It's a wonderful sight from up where you are, though you don't have the time to stop and smell the roses. Or the air pollution, for that matter. Spidey's moving at quite the speed and you're longing to get to your destination.

Eventually, you arrive.

"We're here!", he announces.

"It's- this is perfect! It's genius!", you're squealing. "I've always wanted to go to an anime convention! Damn it, Red, you sneaky guy!"

Spidey rubs the back of his neck, seeming flattered by your words. "Yeah, I figured there'd be cosplayers and everything, so we'd blend right in!" 

You enter the gigantic hall where the convention is set and are greeted by a crowd of familiar faces. Some you know from games, anime, comics- the likes. You even spot a couple of Psyched and Spider-Man cosplayers. As the two of you walk around to admire the various booths and stands you get a couple of compliments on your "incredibly detailed costumes", as a fellow con-goer describes. "Though I'm pretty sure Psyched's a bit taller", they tell you, grinning. 

At one booth you discover that they sell all sorts of anime merch. "Hey, look at those _My Hero Academia_ keychains! Should I get a _Froppy_ one?", Spidey asks, the excitement in his voice makes you smile wide. 

"The booth over there, they've got _Blue Exorcist _stuff! Man, I love that anime. It's really good."

"Funny, a lot of people seem to be watching that anime lately", Red says, examining the little pins and keychains. "Probably just a coincidence!"

After buying some keychains, you continue walking around, admiring all the cosplayers. Some people even come up to you, asking to take a picture with the two you, then you and Red even take a picture with two people who cosplayed as you. 

"That visor looks incredible", you compliment the Psyched-cosplayer. 

"Thanks! You two also look great", they say. "Almost as cozy together as the real deal."

"My thoughts exactly", the Spider-Man-cosplayer chimes in. "In my opinion, those two should just make it official. They'd be extremely cute together."

The Psyched-cosplayer shakes their head disapprovingly. "Sure, but they're kids, Jack. That's kinda creepy."

"Lauren, we're barely any older than them", the Spidey-cosplayer mumbles.

Despite attempting to suppress it, a blush sneaks onto your cheeks. "Do people really think we're a thing?", you ask Red after you've both bought some donuts from a nearby food booth and sat down on a bench.

"I- I don't know. What do you think about it?"

"I mean, I wouldn't mind", you reply with a smirk. Since he's rolled up his mask a bit to eat, you can see a little smile on Spidey's face. So incredibly cute and sweet. Slowly but steadily, you move your hand into the direction of the hand he's got laying on the bench and say:

"Thanks for this. You know, I love doing stuff with you." You spot a red hue around his cheeks as well. 

"I- I'm glad you're enjoying it", his voice is low, almost a whisper. You wince a tiny bit as you feel his hand touching yours, but you grab it and squeeze it softly.

For a moment, you sit there in silence, smiling at each other, sort of holding hands. Then you rest your head on his shoulder as you watch the crowd of the convention together. 

"We should do this more often", he breaks the silence. "The dates, I mean."

"I'd love to. Next time, I get to decide the destination. I think I've already got something that could work."

Spidey turns his head to look at you. "What is it?"

But you decide it's only fair to say: "It's a surprise."


End file.
